


a secret recipe

by facingthenorthwind (spacegandalf), gandalfspace



Category: A Recipe for Seduction (Short Film 2020)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Blackmail, Crack Treated Seriously, F/M, Perfectly Crispy Fried Chicken, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, past parent death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-13 19:42:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29283960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacegandalf/pseuds/facingthenorthwind, https://archiveofourown.org/users/gandalfspace/pseuds/gandalfspace
Summary: Jessica's always known the chicken drumstick on her wrist will lead her to her soulmate. She's also known ever since she met him that Billy sure as hell isn't it. When her mother hires a stunningly handsome private chef who dreams of opening a chicken restaurant... well, she can hardly be blamed for hoping.
Relationships: Billy/Bunny Mancera, Billy/Jessica Mancera, Jessica Mancera/Colonel Sanders (KFC), Lee/The Man Lee Met at the Farmers Market (A Recipe for Seduction)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 9





	a secret recipe

**Author's Note:**

> So I wrote that other KFC film fic on my nonsense burner account without seeing [the film](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I9mgD1DpmZ8) because I thought it was going to be terrible but I've seen the light: it's a masterpiece and deserves an oscar.
> 
> So naturally I had to write the soulmark fic that I joked about in my last author's note. I am apparently only capable of writing crack these days and I don't know what to do about that.
> 
> Harland's opinions about fast food do not align with my own -- once when I went to America I had Popeyes at an airport and it was a religious experience. Nevertheless, I don't know stuff about gourmet food, so that's all made up. If you have corrections I'm happy to make them.
> 
> That said, I based the KFC menu entirely on the australian one because I still don't entirely know what a biscuit is and I'm afraid to ask.
> 
> Thank you to ao3 user chairisse for the beta and for doing an american-pick for me!

If Jessica goes downstairs she’ll have to face her mother, so she’s lying on her bed tracing the soulmark on her wrist. It’s white with a black outline, as all soulmarks are before they’re touched by their soulmate, and looks like a chicken drumstick; her mother insists it could be anything, and there’s no way to know it’s supposed to be that. It’s an “inherently ambiguous shape”, according to her, but Jessica knows in her heart it’s a drumstick. She has no idea what that means — does her soulmate have a passion for food, perhaps? — but she’s sure that if she can just find her soulmate, they’ll be wonderful. 

In the past, plenty of people didn’t have the luxury of marrying their soulmates — maybe they had to marry for politics or because they couldn’t afford to ever leave their village. You always meet your soulmate at least once in your life, but that doesn’t mean you recognise them for who they are; fortunately, it’s improved since showing your soulmark became normal instead of covering it. (Lee says the tradition of hiding it was begun by a king who was gay and didn’t want anyone to know about it, but she has no idea if that’s true. Either way, covering your soulmark persisted for far longer in queer communities than it did in others.)

You can drive yourself to an early grave by worrying endlessly if every tiny interaction is the only chance you’ll get to meet your soulmate, but most people subscribe to the belief that if it’s meant to be, you’ll meet more than once. It’s not strictly true, but we’ve all got to believe things that aren’t strictly true to get by.

Eventually the bell rings that tells her dinner is ready; why they’re still holding onto this enormous house when it’s just the two of them now, she doesn’t know. Well, it used to be only the three of them, but somehow that had felt less ridiculous. Her father had taken up so much space with his infectious joy and his ability to charm anyone he met — so maybe the house feels especially empty for his loss. Jessica doesn’t like to dwell on it too much.

Dinner is a ready-made meal that Jessica knows her mother got out of the fridge; they get gourmet meals delivered twice a week so that her mother doesn’t have to dirty herself with tasks like cooking. Or rather, her mother has no idea how to cook, so she pretends she doesn’t want to.

As always, the food is actually very good — this one has zucchini flowers, which adds the perfect touch to the pork — and it’s only the company that turns the meal sour.

“You know, I think Billy is going to propose soon,” her mother says between mouthfuls.

Jessica’s first instinct is to say ‘I hope not’, but that’s not the answer her mother wants to hear. “Do you?” she says noncommittally instead.

“When he does, you will say yes, won’t you dear?” The deliberately light tone is gone from her mother’s voice; she’s looking directly at Jessica when Jessica finally looks up and Jessica drops her gaze to her plate again immediately.

“You know he’s not my soulmate, Mother,” Jessica says to her zucchini flowers. “He touched my soulmark and nothing happened, not even a tiny tingle. And he won’t even show me his.”

“You have the rest of your life to become soulmates,” her mother says dismissively.

“That’s not how that works!”

“Jessica.” Her mother puts down her fork. “This isn’t your decision to make. We’re a month away from getting this beautiful house repossessed by the bank. Your father left us nothing but a mountain of debt. Don’t you want to keep living as you always have? Don’t you want your mother safe and secure in her old age?”

“You’re not old,” Jessica says.

“I’m talking about the _future_ , Jessica. You seem convinced that you don’t need to plan ahead, but I’m telling you, that luxury died when your father did. Billy will solve our financial problems. You’ll be able to buy your pretty dresses and go to the country club and then you’ll have children of your own and you’ll understand what I’m saying.”

“Just because you didn’t marry your soulmate doesn’t mean you have to trap me in unhappiness too,” Jessica says, and even as she knows it’s a low blow, she’s not prepared for the way her mother’s face contorts.

(Her father had always loved her mother, and said so when Jessica asked why they got married if they weren’t soulmates; her mother told her soulmates weren’t important. Jessica still doesn’t know what her father had seen in her.)

“Stop being an idiot, Jessica. Stability is what will make you happy, not some person you might never find. And you’d do well to remember that I am your mother and you should respect me; don’t expect me to make you dinner tomorrow night. With outbursts like that, I don’t know why I bother trying with you.”

Jessica stabs her last zucchini flower viciously, puts it in her mouth and leaves the table without taking her plate.

* * *

When she gets upstairs, she’s got a text from Lee: it just says _Call me when you’re free, not urgent_. Lee certainly wasn’t what her mother intended for her to come away from university with; she’d expected a MRS degree, but Jessica had come out of it with an honors in history and a completely unmarriable best friend. Perhaps that was why she valued him so much; her mother couldn’t weaponise him against her. She’d tried, of course, interrogating him about his wealth (comfortably middle class with a trust fund but nothing exorbitant) and what he planned to do after college. That ship had sunk when he mentioned his boyfriend off-hand. For some reason, her mother didn’t show much interest in him after that.

She calls him, eager for his voice to make her forget the absolute shitshow she left downstairs. After exchanging pleasantries, Lee gets down to the reason for his message.

“I met someone,” he says, and Jessica can picture his face, the way he’s probably grinning so hard his eyes crinkle. “I’ve got a good feeling about him, you know? We’re going for coffee tomorrow before the evening wedding I’m playing at.”

If Jessica can’t have a functional love life, she’s glad someone she cares about does.

Over the next half hour she learns many facts about this someone: his name is Graham, he sells fresh produce at the farmers market (Lee insists that he doesn’t hang about farmers markets to look for cute guys that might match his carrot soulmark, but he doesn’t _not_ do that), he has a cocker spaniel called Jellybean that he’s bringing to the coffee date tomorrow. Unfortunately, their call is cut short by Lee’s roommate setting something on fire. Lee texts her later to assure her that it was only a small fire, which isn’t as reassuring as he clearly thinks it is. There’s some minor damage to the cupboards, but nothing disastrous, he insists. Jessica takes this to mean that half the kitchen has burnt down. She’ll have to check next time she goes over.

She goes to bed early after reading a few chapters of _A Mark to Remember_ , the latest release from acclaimed New York Times bestselling author Dorothy Schuberman. It is, of course, just as thrilling as all her other books — the love interest has just tried to reject the heroine for her own good but she managed to talk him round in a suitably dramatic fashion.

The next morning, they have a chef.

* * *

She discovers the chef as she and her mother are having breakfast in a frosty silence. A man with impeccably gelled hair and dimples which seem to defy the laws of physics walks in. He looks at her, and seems completely distracted for a moment at the sight of her — Jessica is very glad she put her face on before breakfast instead of leaving it for after. Finally the chef recovers and says, “The menu for Christmas Eve, Mrs Mancera?”

“Thank you, Sanders,” her mother says as if this is completely normal.

“What’s this?” Jessica says. Her mother ignores her, as she has been doing all morning.

“I’m Harland Sanders — your mother hired me as your personal chef. She was kind enough to put me up in your guest house. I started this morning.”

It was very much still morning, and Jessica wonders how early he got up if he’s got a menu planned already.

“This all seems acceptable,” her mother says, handing the menu back, and Jessica watches him leave. The view isn’t bad, either.

“If we’re that close to losing the house, why have you hired a personal chef?”

Her mother said nothing, resolutely staring at the wall opposite.

“If you insist on spending the money we don’t have frivolously, I don’t see why I have to marry Billy.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” her mother says, finally acknowledging her presence. “I need these holidays to be perfect. Or don’t you want to honour the memory of your father?”

“Of course I do, but he wouldn’t wa—”

“Christmas was his favourite holiday, and of course I wasn’t in any kind of state to hold a Christmas Eve dinner last year, but we need to show society that we’re back to normal. If they knew the truth of our financial situation my reputation would never recover.”

Her reputation. This isn’t about her father at all.

“I’m not going to shackle myself to a man I don’t love just to save your reputation,” Jessica insists.

“We’ll see,” her mother says, and Jessica shivers despite the central heating keeping it so warm she can wear a summer dress inside even though it’s December. What does _that_ mean?

* * *

Having Chef Sanders around the house is an unexpected blessing — she still doesn’t know how her mother is paying for it, but she can’t be too mad about it when she can now hang around the kitchen, watching him work and getting to know him. He teaches her how to julienne vegetables and how to knead dough, standing behind her and wrapping his arms around her to show her how to do it. He’s warm and smells amazing — his cologne is far more pleasant than Billy’s, which is always cloying and far too strong. 

He opens up to her, gradually telling her his life story — how he previously worked as the head chef at Le Petit Pamplemousse, a restaurant that Jessica and Bunny had been trying to get a reservation at for years without success. When he hears that he grins and that evening he serves up Le Petit Pamplemousse’s signature dish: he announces it as “poularde de bresse en vessie avec céleri hazelnut”, which means absolutely nothing to Jessica but it looks incredible, a work of art on a plate, and tastes even better. She’s not sure she’s ever eaten a chicken this moist. 

The next day while Harland was making delicate pastries filled with pineapple (and when had he moved from Chef Sanders to Harland in her mind?) she asked how he did it. “You cook it in a pig’s bladder,” Harland says conspiratorially, looking at the door to make sure her mother didn’t come in. “If you know French that’s not a secret; it’s a known technique that’s in the name, but Americans are squeamish, and we don’t exactly publicise it.”

“I can see why,” Jessica says — she’s not sure if she would have been willing to eat it had she known. Do the French really eat pig bladders? “Which bit was the bladder?” she asked. It didn’t seem at all obvious — there was nothing on the plate apart from the chicken, the sauce and celery.

“Oh, no,” Harland says, and then he chuckles. “You don’t eat the pig bladder, you just cook the chicken in it — it keeps all the juices in so the chicken doesn’t get dry.”

“Oh good,” Jessica says, and goes back to watching him shape the pastry into perfect circles.

“You know, it’s not even my best dish,” Harland says after ten minutes of comfortable silence filled only with the barely-there sound of pastry being molded and Harland humming an unfamiliar tune.

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I’ve got a chicken recipe for deep fried chicken with secret herbs and spices in the batter. It’s going to change the world. I’m just saving up to buy somewhere to sell it. Instead of fancy Michelin star restaurants I want to appeal to the common people — they deserve delicious food at reasonable prices that tastes amazing. Have you been to McDonald’s lately?”

Jessica shakes her head. In truth, she’s never been to McDonalds — her mother is entirely against fast food, claiming it’s terrible for you and makes you fat. Jessica thinks there’s nothing wrong with being fat, but even so she hasn’t really felt the desire to go to McDonalds. She absolutely has tried the chicken fries at Burger King, though.

“Well, the fast food scene is pretty dire. I’m going to revolutionize it, I know it.”

He sounds so confident that Jessica can’t help but believe him.

“Of course,” he says, and as he smiles at her she feels like there are butterflies in her stomach. His dimples remain the most incredible dimples she had ever seen, so symmetrical and deep. She could stare at them for the rest of time, probably. “I’ll make a batch just for you.”

Jessica feels like they’re the only two people in the world as he looks into her eyes. She can almost feel the ghost of her finger tracing the outline of her soulmark — but she can’t ask Harland about his, covered by his sleeves as it is. She’s still the daughter of his employer.

That doesn’t stop her hoping.

* * *

Billy takes her to the country club. She considers faking sick to get out of it but her mother stares at her like she knows exactly what she’s doing, and she decides it’s not worth it. She can lie back and think of England, as it were — sit back and think of Harland, happy in his famous chicken restaurant. He presents her with a bouquet of flowers and a plate of chicken, fried to perfection. She can see the little flecks of herbs and spices and as she bites in, there’s a flavour explosion in her mouth — and she doesn't think it could get any better until he presents her with a plate of thick-cut fries. As she bites into one, she discovers that it’s seasoned with some kind of flavoured salt which perfectly complements the fluffy potato within— 

“Jessica, are you listening?”

Billy’s voice interrupts her daydream; he’s glaring at her. 

“Sorry, my thoughts were somewhere else. What were you talking about?”

“As I was saying, Michael’s higher ups are trying to convince the government to let them sink the mine but there are apparently some treehuggers or something convinced that it will lead to extinction of some tiny bug. There are plenty of bugs, there’s nothing special about this one — but think of the wealth this will bring into the economy! Michael says that if this goes through he’ll be able to afford that second yacht, you know the one with the hot tub in it?”

Jessica makes small noises of acknowledgement at what she hopes are the appropriate times. She’s finally found a place worse than in a room with her mother — it’s in a room with Billy.

Halfway through the exhaustive explanation of the specifications of this new boat that Michael hasn’t even bought yet, Lee walks in with (Jessica can only assume) Graham From the Farmers Market. Just as they’ve gone to sit behind Billy at one of the low tables, Lee catches her eye and makes a sympathetic face. She can’t make a face back, of course, but she’s sure her eyes communicated her thanks. Even better, he says something to Graham and they come over.

“Jessica! I had no idea you’d be at the country club,” Lee says. It’s mostly for Billy’s benefit — it’s true, but Jessica has used Lee as a convenient excuse to get out of Billy’s company before, so probably he’s trying to establish… something? Billy’s face is stony for a moment before he pastes on a smile.

“Hi,” Jessica says, getting up and giving Lee a hug. Billy remains seated, giving a tight smile instead.

“Jessica, this is Graham. Graham, this is my friend Jessica.” She can see why Lee had been excited about him — he’s terribly handsome; much more handsome than Billy, with hair that hasn’t receded half as far and slightly crooked front teeth that give him a charm that the people in Jessica’s usual social circles didn’t have, having had orthodontics and teeth-whitening from when they were small.

“Lee’s told me so much about you,” Jessica says. Before she can continue, Billy buts in.

“I’m Billy, Jessica’s boyfriend,” he says, shooting her an annoyed look.

Graham nods politely before focusing back on Jessica.

“And what exactly has he been saying about me?” he says with a smile.

“That your carrots won a ribbon at the show last year and that you’re working on setting up some kind of system to protect your vegetables without using as much pesticide,” she says. “Also that you’re a good kisser.”

“Jessica!” Lee says, pulling a face.

Graham laughs and kisses Lee on the cheek. “So all good things, I can see. He’s mentioned you, too, says you’re his dearest friend from university — ‘the only good thing that came of taking a course on Byzantine art in the middle of a music degree’, I believe were his exact words.”

“The professor was terrible,” Jessica says. “He’d drone on and on, it was such a chore not to fall asleep. And then he made us pay for photocopied chapters of the _textbook that he wrote_.”

“He also said ‘well’ at least every second sentence,” Lee adds. “I tried to take a tally once but I lost track half an hour in. A miracle we both passed.”

Graham glances at Billy and says, “We should meet up properly over coffee or something — we didn’t mean to interrupt your date. Have a good one!”

She waves as Graham and Lee return to their table, taking Jessica’s brief moment of joy with them.

After a few minutes more of impossibly dull conversation, Billy clears his throat and puts his hand on her arm. Out of the corner of her eye she can see a waiter hovering near them who’s holding a bottle of something.

“Jessica, I cannot express how in love with you I am. It’s been truly a delight to court you, and I want to do it for the rest of our lives. Would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

He’s holding out a ring box, open to reveal a gold ring with a garishly large diamond set into it. The room seems to have hushed around them and she can see Lee staring at her, wearing a sympathetic expression. 

“Oh god,” she says softly, entirely unprepared for this moment. Obviously she’s known it was coming closer, but today? She’d hoped it would happen at a quiet dinner in her house, or perhaps somewhere in the gardens — but that’s not her luck. She can sense the way that the room is hanging on her response.

“I—” she says, feeling like she’s drowning on dry land. “Billy, I’m — I’m speechless,” she says at last to buy herself time.

“Well, when you get your speech back a yes would be nice,” Billy says, and his laugh that accompanies it is forced. She doesn’t like the look on his face.

“Why are you putting me on the spot like this?” she says, leaning in to whisper to him. 

“I’m sorry?” Billy says, in the way that indicates that he can’t believe what she’s saying, not that he is actually apologetic. 

“I — I’m sorry, I need some time to think,” she says, getting up and walking as quickly as she dares outside. Billy’s expression is furious but she only glimpses it before fleeing.

As she leaves she can hear the murmurs of the other patrons, and the waiter who was hovering very clearly says, “I’m sure once she’s gotten over her surprise she’ll say yes. Would you like me to open this champagne anyway?”

Billy had driven her, so she doesn’t have a way home but that doesn’t matter to her right now — she’s willing to walk all the way back as long as she doesn’t have to spend another moment in his company. Before she’s even reached the gate Lee catches up to her and puts a hand on her shoulder. 

“I’m so sorry, Jess,” he says, and Jessica leans into him as he puts his arms around her. “That was a shitty thing for him to do. Your mother can’t control you — you don’t have to marry him.”

“I’m not sure what he’ll do if I refuse,” she says into his shirt. “He — he’s never done anything, as such, but… you know when you just get a vibe that someone might be dangerous?”

“Mm,” Lee says. “You can stay at mine if you need to — I can only offer you the sofa but I can promise I won’t let him in. He probably doesn’t even know where I live.”

“Thanks,” Jessica says, finally pulling away and wiping her eyes, hooping her mascara hasn’t run. 

“I can go get Graham and we’ll take you home, if you like — our food hasn’t come yet so it’s no trouble.”

“I’m so sorry for messing up your date,” Jessica says, rubbing the fabric of her skirt between her fingers. “I don’t want to get in the way of you and Graham.”

“It’s alright, I’m sure he’ll understand,” Lee says. “It’s not every day your best friend has to face a public proposal that she doesn’t even want.”

“That’d be wonderful, then,” Jessica replies with a sigh. “I’ll keep you updated on what happens.”

Lee goes back inside, and Jessica tries desperately not to think of the future.

* * *

“How dare she embarrass me like that,” Billy says, pacing in front of Bunny. Jessica is off God knows where, and Billy needs to confer with Bunny on their next steps. “In front of the entire country club! The nerve.”

“I’m so sorry,” Bunny says. “I had no idea she would be so — so insolent. When I suggested doing it in a public place I thought it would ensure she said yes.”

“We can still work this out,” Billy says. “She said she needed time to think, after all — it’s not quite as bad as if she’d said yes in front of everyone. It’s ridiculous that she won’t cooperate — what does she have to lose? She’ll never have to work a day in her life as my wife, and I can give her everything she wants — she can have all the pretty dresses and throw all the dinner parties her heart desires. And of course,” he says, his tone changing to something sultry instead of frustrated and angry, “I’ll have to travel a lot for work — and if those trips happen to be to a cabin far away from everyone where we just happen to meet… well, she’d be none the wiser. She has a comfortable life, and I have you.” He tips Bunny’s chin up and kisses her. 

It would not be entirely proper for Billy to marry Bunny instead — though they’d considered it, back when this whole thing began. Billy’s courtship of Jessica had still been fairly new then, introduced at a dinner party, though Billy had been entirely distracted by her mother. In the end it was agreed that Bunny having a husband the same age as her unmarried daughter would cause too much talk of the wrong sort, so instead… this.

“It’s the chef I hired to make us more comfortable. I suspect she thinks she’s in love with him, the fool,” Bunny says when she eventually pulls away.

“The _chef_?” Billy says, completely flabbergasted. What was she doing, seriously considering the staff? It’s not irregular to have a dalliance in the bedroom with a particularly shapely maid or something, but _love_ is entirely different.

“I should have put a stop to their spending so much time together,” Bunny says, “but you know how she is — if I forbid something she’s only more likely to do it. She’s got the foolish idea that soulmarks matter into her head, too, though who knows where she got it — it’s a wild goose chase, we all know that. Doesn’t even guarantee happiness. I’d have thought she’d grown out of such fairytales by now.”

“And if they matter so much, why are some people born without them?” Billy asks rhetorically, his hand going to where he wears a brace over the wrist where a soulmark usually resides. He’s seen Bunny’s fox tattoo and almost certainly touched it in the process of lovemaking, hand wrapped around her dainty wrist, but he’s barely thought about it. Bunny certainly doesn’t seem to pay it any mind.

“The question is what to do about this chef,” Bunny says. “Even if I fired him, I’m sure she’d still find a way to spend time with him. He’d need to go somewhere she can’t follow.”

Billy hummed, thinking for a moment before saying, “I could offer him money to skip town. I’ve got no idea if he’s short of funds, but money’s always a good motivator. I’d make it a condition that he not contact Jessica beforehand, of course. She’d have no choice but to give up on him.”

“That could work,” Bunny says thoughtfully. “It’ll be a shame to lose him for the Christmas Eve dinner, but needs must.”

“When Jessica and I are married I’ll fund as many Christmas Eve dinners as you want,” Billy promises, kissing her again. “You’ll want for nothing.” Now that they have a plan, Billy feels so much calmer, the rage filling him cooling down to a simmer. Jessica _will_ be his.

Jessica’s relieved that nothing too terrible has happened since she turned Billy down. Well, she hasn’t actually told him no yet — she’s still “thinking about it”. She knows she can’t possibly go through with it, though, especially with the way she’s fallen head over heels for Harland.

She was worried at first that she was overstepping her bounds; it would put Harland in a terribly awkward position if she confessed her love to him and he wanted to turn her down. In the end, though, that’s not what happens at all.

It’s a few days after the disastrous day at the country club, and she’s walking the grounds with Harland. The sun is shining, there’s not a cloud in the sky, and she can hear birds singing — it feels like summer, and Jessica is resolutely not thinking too hard about what this kind of unseasonable warmth means for the state of the future. If it weren’t for everything else, she’d consider this moment perfect — walking next to the man she loves, comfortable conversation about everything and nothing occupying them for what seems like hours. 

“Jessica,” Harland says, and his tone is serious in a way she’s not heard it before. She stops walking, abruptly afraid of what he’s going to say next. “I — I was approached by Billy yesterday.” Shit. Billy. Why did he have to ruin everything? “He gave me a check for half a million dollars so I would skip town and not contact you ever again, including not telling you where I was going.”

She feels like a bucket of ice water has been poured all over her. One of the only good things she has in her life and he’s snatching it away.

“Oh,” she says softly, closing her eyes. 

“Jessica, please look at me,” Harland says, and she can’t help but obey — it’s not like this is his fault, after all. “I don’t want to take his money. I… forgive me if this is too forward, and if you’re uncomfortable I’ll resign immediately, but… I’ve fallen in love with you. I don’t want to cut contact with you, and I don’t want you to marry Billy.”

“When I picture a future where I marry Billy it feels like a cage,” Jessica confesses. “The only reason I haven’t said no yet is because I don’t know what I’m going to do about Mother.” She takes a deep breath — she’s stalled long enough, and Harland doesn’t deserve to be kept waiting. “I’ve fallen in love with you too, Harland. I could never see a future, before, in the universe where I didn’t marry Billy — it was always a blank, but now you’re in it, and your chicken restaurant, and I — I want that.”

Harland’s face lights up and all she can think about is how she wants to make him look like that always.

“Can I kiss you?” he says softly, and she nods. His kiss is gentle, even a little uncertain at first, as if he’s not sure he’s allowed. In response, she puts a hand on his shoulder and kisses back, luxuriating in this sensation she wasn’t sure she could ever have. She deepens the kiss and they lose time like that, wrapped up in each other.

At last they part, breathing heavily, and Jessica admires how Harland’s lips are slightly swollen — _she_ did that. She made him slightly dishevelled, his perfectly-gelled hair mussed from where she’d run her fingers through it.

“I — I know this is probably going a little fast,” she says, “but — I think you might be my soulmate? Ever since you told me about your chicken restaurant, I’ve been hoping—” She breaks off, not sure whether she can voice her hopes, not when they’re unconfirmed.

She shows him the chicken drumstick on her wrist, though it’s probable he’s seen it before. She’s never seen his, covered by his uniform, and despite her nerves she can feel in her heart that when he reveals it, it’s still going to be white. 

Harland had gasped when she said the word soulmate and when she puts her wrist forward he stares at her face for a long moment before touching her mark. His touch is gentle, like she’s something precious, and she has no idea what sound she makes as colour spreads from his fingertip, her mark filling into a rich red. Harland laughs like he can’t believe what’s happening and pulls her in for another kiss, holding her face in his hands.

After kissing her for long enough that Jessica can finally begin to believe this is real, Harland unbuttons his cuff, showing her the flower outlined over his veins. “I asked a friend what flower it was, once,” he says softly. “He said he couldn’t be sure, since soulmarks have so little detail, but the shape reminded him of a California suncup. I moved here as soon as I was done with culinary school, of course. And when I met you — I couldn’t help but think you were the sun, warm and bright and making everything around you bloom.”

Jessica is faintly aware that she’s begun to cry, so overwhelmed with emotion. She takes his wrist and rubs her thumb over his mark, which blooms the same red as hers had.

She lets out a watery giggle and Harland wipes her tears away gently with his thumb. “I don’t care what we have to do to help you escape this,” he says. “We’re going to do it, and we’re going to make a life together.”

Jessica can’t help but kiss him again, grounding herself in his touch so she won’t float away.

Eventually they both smooth down their hair and straighten their clothes in order to return to the house to tell Jessica’s mother the good news. Jessica can’t imagine doing this by herself, but anything is possible when she has Harland’s hand in hers.

When Harland opens the door it becomes immediately apparent that something is not quite right. Someone is moaning in pleasure and someone else is letting out short, rhythmic grunts — even if her mother did have someone in her life (which, to the best of Jessica’s knowledge, she doesn’t), it makes no sense that their bedroom activities are audible from the front door. She and Harland exchange an uncomfortable look but something propels Jessica forward, following the sound to the sitting room.

Nothing could prepare her for what she sees. Sure, she’s never wanted to see her mother having sex, but she’s already come to the conclusion that it was her mother. The entirely unexpected part is Billy.

They’re having sex on the sofa, and Jessica can only think for a moment how she had been sitting on that sofa only the other day. Did they do this regularly? Why are they not in her mother’s bedroom? And then she shakes herself to consider the real question: why is _Billy_ fucking her mother?

As she stands in the doorway she lets out a little involuntary scream. Harland moves to stand in front of her for some reason, as if he’s protecting her from the awful scene, but she’s already certain it’s tattooed on the back of her eyelids anyway.

Her mother echoes her with her own strangled yell and begins to push her skirt down as if to retain whatever modesty she has left. Billy has no choice but to tuck himself back into his underwear and pull up his trousers still within view of them, though Jessica resolutely keeps her eyes fixed on her mother’s face. It’s not like this is the first time she’s seen Billy’s dick, but she doesn’t want to face the fact that it was _inside her mother_. 

There’s silence for several long moments, no one sure what to say, and then Jessica lets out a quiet, heartfelt, “What the _fuck_?”

She can almost see her mother’s impulse to scold her for her language before she realises that she’s just been caught having sex with Jessica’s almost-fiancé.

“Jessica,” her mother says, but doesn’t seem to have anything else to say. Billy is silent, as uncertain as Jessica has ever seen him.

“Is this why you wanted me to marry Billy?” Jessica says. “Has the money thing just been a lie to ensure that you — that you have the—” She can’t even say it. “Why don’t you just marry him yourself if you want him so badly?”

She’s met with silence and she laughs bitterly, the sound entirely foreign to her ears. “Imagine being concerned about your _reputation_ , thinking it matters how a dinner party goes when you’re actually fucking your daughter’s fiancé!” She knows she sounds a little hysterical but she feels a little like she’s watching this happen to someone else. “I could ruin you with this. I could take a photo right now and destroy you both.”

“Jessica,” Billy says, but she doesn’t let him continue.

“You know what? We’ll make a deal. Harland is my soulmate — our marks have changed color. I’m not marrying Billy. If you let me leave with all my things and make sure that check you made out to Harland doesn’t bounce, I’ll never tell anyone about this. But if you ever contact me again after I leave, I _will_ do it.” She takes out her phone and snaps a picture — sure, they’re not longer in flagrante, as such, but they’re clearly in the immediate aftermath, both of them with messy hair and Billy with lipstick all over his neck. The look of shock on her mother’s face doesn’t hurt, either.

“Deal,” Billy says, and puts out a hand, as if Jessica’s ever going to shake it after knowing where it’s been.

“Good,” Jessica says and she leaves, Harland following after her.

* * *

She can barely think straight and packs only the essentials she can think of in the moment, Harland offering helpful suggestions. When she feels like she has enough for now, she returns downstairs and announces that she will return for the rest of her things in the coming days. Leaving the house, it feels impossible that the sun is still in the same place in the sky as it was when she and Harland were kissing; impossible that there are still birds singing, as if it’s still a normal day.

Harland bundles her into his car and they drive across town to a decently sized flat in a nice enough part of town. It’s much smaller than she’s used to, but it looks homey and lived-in in a way that her house never had. There’s a corkboard near the front door with little notes and the occasional flyer stuck to it, apparently reminders for various things long since passed. She doesn’t know why but that’s the thing her mind latches onto, and it makes all of this suddenly feel real.

“I’m so sorry,” she says, putting her suitcase down. “I didn’t mean for — for this to happen so quickly.”

“Shh,” Harland says, pulling her in for a hug. “You couldn’t have seen this coming, darling. I’m just happy that you’re alright, and we’re soulmates, and I can wake up beside you every morning.” She leans into him and tries to remember this is a beginning, and not the end of the world. “Now, before we do anything else, let’s get you a drink, yes? Would you like some coffee? That always helps me think straight, I find.”

She can’t even voice her gratitude as Harland takes charge, leading her to the living room and installing her in a chair before disappearing to prepare coffee. They drink it in silence, Harland’s arm around her as she comes back to herself. It’s all going to be alright. She has Harland, and that’s all that matters.

* * *

Lee texts her that evening to ask her how she’s going and she considers trying to tell him the events of the day over text — she half fears he won’t believe her unless he can see her face, and suggests they meet up the next morning for brunch at Harland’s apartment ( _their_ apartment?) instead.

He brings Graham, who immediately offers to become scarce if she doesn’t want him privy to whatever she has to tell Lee. His considerateness touches her but she shakes her head. He’s going to find out anyway. Plus, he’s brought his dog, and this way she can give Jellybean pats as she goes through the experience of having to say out loud that she saw her own mother having sex.

“...So we left, and now I’m living here. You can’t tell anyone about what happened, though,” she finishes after her explanation. Jellybean has been by her side the entire time, licking her calf occasionally and moving slightly whenever he wanted her to pet him in a different place. Jessica’s in love with him already, and plans to tell Lee he should keep Graham solely for access to his dog.

“That’s insane,” Lee says. “I’m glad you got out, though — would prefer it not to have been so traumatic, but at least you’re free of them both.”

“Sounds like a nightmare,” Graham says. “Also, Harland, these pancakes are amazing — unbelievably fluffy.”

Harland smiles, and Jessica squeezes his hand.

Lee exchanges a look with Graham before he says, “We weren’t expecting such… a dramatic tale, I’ve got to admit, and now I’m not entirely sure if this is the right time, but I’m pretty sure you’d yell at me if I didn’t tell you about it immediately, so…” Lee and Graham both unbutton their cuffs and hold out their arms, their marks a matching shade of blue. Graham’s is a harp, and Jessica has to laugh. Of course it is.

“I’m so glad,” she says, beaming at them. “It’s great news, especially because Lee was running out of farmers markets to canvas for soulmates.”

“Oi!” Lee says, but he’s laughing. “I told you, I genuinely enjoy farmers markets!”

Jessica laughs, and she finally feels like everything is alright. Harland’s going to use Billy’s money to open up his restaurant, she’s never going to have to see Billy or her mother again, and she and her best friend have both found their soulmates. 

Everything else has been worth it.


End file.
